Antithesis
by Ultimate R-Man
Summary: A new threat has seeped through a crack of space and time itself. Now, it threatens the very fabric of this dimension. It threatens to release its dark master. If it succeeds, the Antithesis of all things pure shall be upon us. Now postBirthmark.
1. Chapter 1

**Teen Titans**

**Antithesis**

**Disclaimer**: All characters in this story are the legal property of DC Comics, Cartoon Network, and Warner Brothers Animation. I use them here without legal permission, and do not profit from this work.

**Author's Note:** Well, here I am again, and bearing a brand new beautiful fic. This seems to have molded itself into somewhat of a mushy romance, though that was not my intention in writing it. I try to stay as far away from couplings as possible, as choosing a side will only cause pain and suffering for everyone. I like to keep an open mind.

This takes place shortly after my last fic, which is set right after the events of Season Three. Let's say that this tale takes place shortly before Season Four.

The following story centers around Cyborg and Raven, and a new threat with links to both of their pasts. If you don't like dialogue, I suggest you turn away now. Otherwise, read on, dear friend. I guarantee you'll be satisfied with this little yarn I've spun.

Prologue 

A deafening bell blared, shattering the sleepy silence, reviving the exhausted children within the imprisoning confines of Jump Elementary School. The still, monochrome halls were overflowing with a river of cheering children in seconds, restless from hours of learning, their stiff, knotted limbs longing to be loosened by play.

The double doors exploded outward, releasing the eager classes. The chains of the swings squeaked and rattled as they swung back and forth like a pendulum, balls of every variety sailed over the blacktop, bouncing or crashing as they stuck the rough surface, and a small group just relaxed, laughing merrily as they enjoyed the gentle breeze and the company of good friends.

It watched them from a distance, watched their frolicking patiently, like a methodical jungle cat stalking its unsuspecting prey. The hunger within it swelled, its crimson, rounded frame beginning to contract and expand rapidly in a heart-like rhythm; _ba-bump, ba-bump. _Finally unable to contain its own savage desire, it emerged from the engulfing shadows, its polished glass surface glistening brilliantly as the resting afternoon sun brushed against it. It hovered several inches above the chaotic streets, ignoring the hysterical citizens as they fled from its eternally groping, snaking tendrils.

A disc-shaped object suddenly smashed into the creature, forming an intricate web of wire-thin cracks across its semi-transparent "body". Nearby, a gnat beat its microscopic wings once. The projectile burst into a scalding ball of light, shattering the beast's pulsating synthetic skin. It's malleable metal base clattered to the ground, belching forth a ghastly, yellow, pestilential smoke. Its hollow tentacles followed, clattering on the cement like aluminum cans, completely limp.

Almost as quickly as it has been destroyed, the unloving monster restored itself. Slowly, the edges of the jagged gap left in its glittering core inching closer together, new material seeming to simply materialize. The two sides kissed, connecting perfectly like pieces of a puzzle, leaving only a zigzagging scar. Slowly, even that began to fade, snaking inward from both ends until it was nonexistent. The crimson, egg-shaped head was completely healed, bearing neither scratch nor scorch to prove it had ever been damaged.

The beating sound became more frequent, labored; every artificial vein pulsed with a steaming, bestial rage. It craved the innocence, the hopes and dreams of young hearts, and none would prevent it from obtaining the rich, delicious fuel.

"Sorry to break your heart, Kardiak," taunted a young, yet powerful, commanding voice, and not one unfamiliar to the monstrosity's sensors, "but lunch has been cancelled."

The speaker was a seemingly unimpressive specimen; it was an teenaged human male, short in stature, yet something in his dramatic stance made him appear imposing; one might even say he looked dynamic, especially with the black and yellow cape that fluttered behind him. Even through the opaque lenses of his thin eye mask, one could clearly see this was a principled young man, one who kept the ancient, long forgotten code of chivalry alive. The "R" insignia on his trademark red and green costume was known and feared among the villains of the world, both small time hoods and would be conquerors. His name was whispered with caution in every seedy bar, every abandoned warehouse, every blind alley: "Robin".

As the thing called Kardiak knew well from experience, this Robin scarcely flew alone. Thus, it hardly came as a surprise when four other organics joined him, each following the other in an equally stunning fashion. The first swooped from the air, her fiery red hair blazing behind her like an inferno, her emerald eyes burning with the superheated fury of a sun; this, surely, was the Tamarnian visitor known as Starfire.

The next companion also descended from the heavens, this one on the leathery wings of a green pterodactyl. By the time it touched the ground, it had completely transformed; in the place of the mighty prehistoric beast was a younger boy, challenged both height and build. His ropy arms were weighed down only by his awkwardly oversized hands, and his pencil-thin legs were bent in a toad-like squat. His skin and hair were green, his ears came to points, and a single fang protruded from his lower lip, outlandish features alone deserving his codename: Beast Boy.

A nearby manhole suddenly leaped into the air like a bullet, as if the very water beneath it were forcing it away from the steaming street that gripped it. The fourth Titan emerged from the mazelike sewer caverns below, likely leaving his "T-Car" safely there. This teen was Beast Boy's opposite; he dwarfed every one of his comrades in size; Starfire, the second tallest, even had to strain her neck to make eye contact, or else she would be staring at his durable titanium chest. Indeed, a great deal of this lad had been replaced by sophisticated electronics, from his broad, bulky shoulders to his bare, tremendous, boot-like artificial feet, which did not walk so much as punish whatever they tread upon. The upper-left portion of his head was also mechanical, including the eye, now merely glowing red glass, the tangled web of wires crisscrossing behind it endowing it with vision.

Finally, an enormous black Raven ascended from the solid concrete, defying logic as it simply melted through the ground, leaving no hole beneath, as if it were simply intangible, a ghost. Indeed, something was strange about this bird; it was solid black in color, yet somehow seemed to radiate light, giving it an otherworldly hue. The creature displayed its impressive wingspan, then dissolved, leaving behind another female. This one was devoured by a mysterious blue cloak that concealed every feature, leaving only a sliver of her pale complexion visible to the eyes that dared to glance. To those she called her friends, she was the reserved Raven, never to be trifled with.

The bizarre party reflected in the effulgent, lightly beating surface of Kardiak's "face" were not an obscure group, but the scant souls who had not heard of their exploits needn't have looked farther than the newspaper stand around the corner. Though it had been demolished by a frantic driver as he fled the scene, each of the scattered front pages proudly wore a photograph of the group. "**TEEN TITANS SAVE CITY**" every bold heading declared in some form or another. These were heroes ranked among the Godly Justice League, and though they operated locally, their exploits were applauded around the world.

The soulless shell that was Kardiak emitted a guttural, baritone noise that sounded something like an agitated growl. It had no true mind, knowing only the maddening hunger that gave it purpose, and thus it did something that no truly sane organism should ever do when confronted by superheroes: it charged. They mimicked the action, rushing to meet it halfway, except for Beast Boy, who scampered off in the form of a swift-footed jaguar to warn the school of the impending danger. The gargantuan forces collided in a shower of sparks.

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**_"She has grown in power since last we met,"_** he said, the tone of his rumbling voice somewhere between a malicious hiss and a, enraged snarl. His eyes, each a luminescent yellow split in half by a thin pupil, the only feature visible through the veil of blackness hugging his face, focused intently on the action displayed within the enchanted mirror, an elegant piece, framed by bejeweled gold, that contrasted the dank, gloomy surroundings of the cave in which it dangled precariously from an incessantly dripping stalactite. The observer took specific interest in the young witch, Raven, his embers narrowing as the black mists of her incantation seized a truck and hurled it at Kardiak.

"Oh please," grumbled a voice from within the absolute darkness. "You have nothing to complain about! All you have to do is snatch her up, nice and easy, while I deal with the rest of the Titans!"

"**_Would you face the girl again?"_** the beast inquired jeeringly.

"_No!_" exclaimed the other, the dread in his voice obvious. "Er… I mean, I think my men and I will be able to handle them."

**_"So you've chosen your accomplices?"_**

"Oh, yes," the shadowed man replied, the overconfident inflection of his voice irritating the dark mastermind. "I put an ad out on the Internet just the other day, and got a great deal of responses."

**_"On… the Internet?"_**

"Of course! It's the fastest way to meet people nowadays."

The observer did not reply, only continuing to stare into mirror, silently seething at the mortal's impudence; his incompetent behavior was truly insulting. **_"The large one could also complicate matters,"_** he warned, masterfully hiding his anger.

"Cyborg won't prove too difficult," the other man assured him, his ego easily flattening the tiny Earth. "As long as that blasted she-demon doesn't get involved, I'll be fine."

The observer couldn't stifle a chuckle at that sentiment: she-demon. If only the idiot knew the truth of it…

"Sorry to break up this special bonding moment," taunted a new voice, gruff and muffled, as if processed through a machine, "but I've got other places to be."

The observer grinned fiendishly, revealing multiple rows of well-maintained fangs. He turned; a white skull bearing a red "X" across the forehead hovered a few feet above the stony cave floor.

**_"Red X," _**he greeted with exaggerated cordiality.**_ "You have my gratitude. I trust you brought the mirror." _**

****"Of course," the thief replied in a similar fashion, placing the unseen object into his employer's anxious, three-fingered talons, carefully avoiding the three-inch daggers that tipped each finger.

"**_And did you put the creature in place?" _**

****"Yeah. First time I dropped something off in a building, though. Usually, I'm taking stuff out of a place."

**_"Your assistance is much appreciated. Are you sure you were unseen?" _**

"Yeah, yeah. Their security's a joke. What about my pay?"

**_"My associate in Steel City will provide you with your Xenothium. He expects your prompt appearance." _**

The observer need not have said another word; once he uttered "Steel City", the skull vanished, leaving in its wake only rapid, echoing footfalls, each one growing more distant, until silence permeated the chamber on more.

"You don't have an associate in Steel City, do you?" the ignoramus asked a few moments later, when he was certain that the high-tech crook was miles away.

**_"Of course not,"_** the observer replied casually as turned back to his eavesdropping, now upon the aftermath of the brutal struggle; the newspapers would scream that the Titans intervention had saved a schoolyard of young children from a grisly fate leagues worse than death, overweight city officials would sing their well-rehearsed praise, lawyers would gripe endlessly about the infinitesimal property damage, and eyewitnesses would recount their breathtaking tales. Hypocrites.

"What a dolt!" he cackled, blind and deaf to the fact that he was far more foolish.

The observer replied with a humored snort.

**Author's Note:** This short intro carries the same spirit as the prologue in my last fic, though this time, the villain is unrelated. I admit, I could have gotten away with not describing our heroes, but I would have felt like a lousy writer. Next time, I'll try to do something different, but those big entrances are among my favorite scenes in the show, so I tend to incorporate that.

I don't think anybody should have trouble guessing the identity of the mystery guest.

And yes, my sources say it's Kardiak, not Cardiac. One of those purposely misspelled words, I suppose.

That's pretty much it for now.

**Next Time: **What's wrong with Raven?


	2. Ch 1: Good Morning, Titans

**Disclaimer: **Last I checked, I still didn't own the Teen Titans. I'm working on it, though. It's the property of DC Comics and WB Studios… for now!

**Author's Note:** The official first big chapter of my second big story! As it stands, I don't know if it will be longer or shorter; I always make extensive changes. Personally, I hope it ends up longer.

I'd like to thank all of my reviewers; look at the end of the chapter for individual messages.

Ch. 1: Good Morning, Titans 

As dawn crept upon the normally bustling city of Jump, it opted to roll over in its warm, secure bed, stretch its linen sheets over its head, and groggily drift back into its weary slumber as the sun continued to climb higher in its long trek across the gradually brightening sky. Such was characteristic of the city, exhausted by the chaos of rampaging monstrosities and maniacal madmen with automated armies. These early morning hours were the only time the citizens of the metropolis had to sleep in peace, confident that they were safe within their homes, protected by four sturdy walls, dozens of securely bolted locks, and state-of –the-art security systems (the latest on the market, of course).

Thus, the early morning hours of Jump City carried with them a temporary tranquility, free of the obnoxious purr of the countless gas-spewing engines, their blaring horns and cursing drivers only adding to the anarchy gripping the streets in its slender, steel fingers (and this was only the congested rush-hour traffic). A silence hung in the air like a decorative portrait, beautiful while it endured, but prepared to plummet at the slightest movement. Thus, the scant early birds had to fly on light feathers to catch their worm, lest it be trampled in the imminent stampede.

Most of the aforementioned early risers were "Romeos and Juliets", young lovers who woke early for the sake of spending every moment available with each other. Often, in these waking hours, they would rush to beat the sunrise, jogging toward the shore of Jump City Bay to glimpse the multitude of colors blanketing the sky, the swirling oranges, reds, the light pinks tickling the underbellies of the lazy clouds. As they watched in awe, the sun would break the horizon just above the massive, towering "T" that was erected on the island just offshore, causing it to cast a long shadow that stretched to tap the damp sands. The lovers felt secure that those who resided within the structure were diligently ensuring their safety.

They would have been disappointed if they had X-Ray Vision.

The experience of awakening in Titan's Tower often varied, influenced heavily by the events of the previous night, specifically what they had battled and how long it had lasted. The pivotal factor, however, was who woke up first. On an ideal day, Raven would be the first to rise, quietly hover through the twisting hallways to let her companions rest, and meditate in solitude on the roof, or perhaps bury her nose in a thick text and lose herself in it, forgetting the world around her, and within her, for a few hours at least. If all went perfectly, the remaining Titans would emerge from their quarters one by one, cautious not to disturb Raven, lest they inadvertently cross the border tenuous between her bad side and her worse side. In the wildest fantasies that every Titan sometimes imagined, Cyborg and Beast Boy would each prepare his own breakfast without a fuss, the former sighing at the alluring aroma of bacon and eggs as they sizzled in the pan, the latter shooting him a glare of mute disgust as he prepared dairy-free waffles.

Of course, few things on this planet can be truly perfect, and so, waking up often entailed pain for every tenant of Titans Tower. If Starfire awoke first, she would greet the morning exuberantly with a booming Tamaranian folksong, much to the dismay of her teammates. The team also dreaded Robin's early awakenings, as they usually brought with them grueling hours of "morning exercise" on the obstacle course. Once in a red moon, Beast Boy would beat his friends out of bed. Not missing an opportunity to make a bit of mischief, he would proceed to morph into a rooster and belt out with his loudest crow, giggling hysterically as his agitated teammates rushed out to berate him.

Mercifully, Raven's violet eyes were the first to flutter open on that morn.

They quickly squeezed shut, however, as beams of light stabbed through them and clawed at her mind, completely disorienting her. She tried to draw in oxygen, but was immediately frustrated; her blockaded nostrils refused to allow the air access, and she coughed a reaction to the violent collision that ensued. She began to take labored, rasping breaths through her mouth, groaning in discomfort as new layers of mucous coated her throat.

"Great," she grumbled aloud, her voice ragged, "I have a cold."

She scarcely considered the fact that something was amiss, even with the knowledge that she had not been infected with a single malady of any form in over ten years, excluding, of course, Slade's unnatural Nanoscopic Probes. Her constantly evolving supernatural powers had long ago taken charge of her immune system, aiding it in repelling the foreign invaders that inevitably penetrated her cold, distant exterior. She attributed her current condition to the stress caused by her recent injury at the hands of Professor Chang's robotic brutes; though she had brushed the pain away as she would a fly, attempting to comfort her overly concerned, often intrusive companions, she knew too well that had it not been for their expeditious action, she may well have died. The ordeal had unnerved her, though she expertly concealed it beneath her cloak.

Thusly ignorant of the gradually mounting dangers, Raven once more allowed herself to be dragged across the scalding gravel by flaming steeds into her apocalyptic dream world, knowing that it held only eternal suffering. She made no effort to struggle as her pale skin was seared by brimstone; she had grown accustomed to the lonely darkness, the frigid cell that sleep had become.

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Robin's green-gloved fingers blurred across the keyboard, gentle tics and tacs sounding with every pounding strike, seeming to echo through the darkened, barren, twisting halls of the tremendous "T". It would do little, the Boy Wonder reasoned, to wake the other borders; in their beds, they were nearly deaf, especially behind the impenetrable doors of inches thick iron and concrete. Unfortunately, Fortune did not cast her toothy, Cheshire Cat grin at Robin that day, instead gently nudging the shoulder of the unconscious form of Beast Boy. His thundering, guttural snoring immediately ceased, and he moaned incomprehensibly for several seconds to his imagined female worshippers as he kicked at his constricting, frayed green sheets. His sensitive elf ears perked, a catlike trait he had subconsciously inherited, as they detected the faint cries of the keys as they fell beneath his leader's infuriated, frenzied keystrokes.

"Dude," he griped hoarsely when he entered the poorly lit main room, which felt more like a claustrophobic tomb than a recreational area, "switch to decaf. I think they need some sleep in Metropolis."

If this was a tomb, then Robin was the decomposing corpse, and his expression and idiosyncrasy did not dispute the fact; he did not respond for several more uneasy seconds, giving the green changeling plenty of time to regret his unmannerly, rash, and, to be blunt, extremely stupid quip. "I'm filling out a damage report for the Kardiak battle," he finally replied, his agitated voice a soft monotone that would have turned Raven's chalk-white skin as green Beast Boy's with envy.

"But dude," the shape shifter half yelled, his mouth exaggeratedly agape, bearing his sharpened canines, "that was, like, yesterday!" To emphasize the already evident point, he held up a festively decorated piece of glittering cardboard, displaying a preschool rendition of the cycles of the sun throughout the day (from where he had procured it, not even the super-intelligent Boy Wonder knew).

"Yes, it was yesterday," Robin replied, massaging his nonexistent eyes to expel the pressure of the steadily brewing migraine; Beast Boy's antics, while performed in honorable will, could be quite vexing, and the Boy Wonder was not famous for his patience, much like his infamous mentor, "but who was it that wanted to go out for pizza right after we finished."

"Uh… me?" Beast Boy answered sheepishly, scratching the back of his head, rubbing the back of his twig-like calf with the toasty green fuzz of his bunny slippers (a gift given to him by Cyborg as a joke, one that all of the Titans, even B.B. himself, found humor in)..

"And who decided to have a video game tournament with Cyborg?"

"Me?" Beast Boy meekly echoed.

"And who had to have that 'Lizard King' movie marathon?" he persistently pressed.

"Gee, sorry Dad," the green elf quipped, rolling his bloodshot, half-closed eyes, his eyelids still burdened by the overwhelming fatigue caused by the activities his brave captain had rattled off precisely. Beast Boy, being quite unwise himself, never quite valued a certain proverb uttered centuries by a stout, balding, gray haired man over a steaming fresh cup of overtaxed tea.

"The point is, you didn't give me the opportunity last night," Robin said, his voice even, unwavering, steady and sure, each commanding word carefully chosen as it slipped out of his mouth. "I have to fill out these reports. If I don't, there won't be any compensation for the people who lost property. And if there isn't any compensation, we could face some serious charges in court."

"Okay!" Beast Boy exclaimed, rapidly waving a tiny white cloth to signal his surrender, wildly flailing his ropy arms. "I'm not complaining or anything, I just… well, yeah, I am complaining. Could you, like, try and hammer away at it a bit softer. I like to wake up at a reasonable hour."

"Like noon?" the Boy Wonder joked, allowing a thin, transparent half-smile to pass across his lips, which were usually chiseled into a menacing, no-nonsense scowl. It quickly dropped; apparently, somebody securely reattached the lead weights to the corners of his stone mouth.

"Exactly," the changeling replied in all seriousness, not detecting his comrade's sarcasm. Robin braced himself for what he anticipated to be either an impending high-pitched giggle or a confused protest as he came to the abrupt realization that he had been insulted. When neither occurred, the Boy Wonder simply shook his head, running a velvet hand through his heavily gelled jet black hair, and made an attempt to recall why he had recruited Beast Boy in the first place. If memory served, it was sympathy that drove him to stamp "**ACCEPTED**" on the wrinkled, smudged application form that the eager elf had handed to him personally, bearing a fangy, happy-go-lucky grin, one that was too obviously mocked; buried beneath its tightly packed surface were a host of agonizing truths that the changeling would reveal when he himself was able to completely accept them.

Robin prepared his response, even allowed a thin shadow of a breath to escape his larynx, but even as it heated the air of the massive main room, a quiet chirp called out to him, drawing his attention to the sprawling console, to a large red button that was presently blinking on and off, bathing the gradually brightening chamber with its intense red light. Somebody was contacting them, a seldom occurrence unless there was a menace to fell. Without hesitation, Robin slammed his fist into the button, an action that produced two reactions; first, Beast Boy's sensitive, acute ears twitched, and second, the awesome computer screen that dominated an entire window of the Titans' home, that blotted out the sun as it burst from the encompassing sea, flickered for a moment as it began to load the image of the person in peril.

Robin was forced to stifle a snicker as the familiar image appeared; the person was young, approximately the same age as the Boy Wonder, and sporting a similar thin mask that just barely covered his unseen eyes. However, instead of the red and green, he wore a solid crimson uniform, displaying the symbol "s" in place of an "R". The dynamic teen wore Robin's grim scowl upside down, forming a cocky smirk. Topping his fiery orange head was a whimsical yellow hat, coming to a narrow tip at the front and broadening in back so that it might hug one's skull; it was reminiscent of the generic Robin Hood hat, and appropriately so when one considered the quiver of arrows slung over his muscle-toned shoulders.

"Speedy," Robin greeted, desperately fighting to maintain his granite professional façade, and failing miserably as it slowly began to crumble, causing his lower lip to quiver as the lighthearted teen imprisoned behind it continued to furiously claw free.

"Dude," Beast Boy gasped between fits of hyperventilating laughter, "nice hat! Didn't know you were the prince of thieves!"

The archer's front teeth sank into his lower lip as his skin brightened to match his scarlet suit, and a throbbing vein bulged from his forehead. "Mas and Menos glued it on while I was asleep," he hissed, steam erupting from his ears accompanied by a piercing whistle, not unlike one you would hear at a train station. Rapid Hispanic chattering was audible from off screen, produced, no doubt, by the aforementioned twin speedsters reveling in their handiwork; frustrating their egocentric teammate was among their preferred past-times.

"I trust that isn't the emergency," Robin said, finally succumbing to the playful, wisecracking child he once was, long ago, before his heart was hardened into steel as unbreakable as Cyborg's prosthetic replacements; rattling his rival's cage had a way of melting the frost away and turning up his lips.

"Jail break," Speedy said, abandoning his usual persona, adopting Robin's grim frown in place of his own cheerful smirk. "We don't know how, but there was apparently a power failure."

"Overload… he went missing not long ago," Robin reasoned. It took little more than a fraction of his keen intellect to put the pieces together; they practically fell into place themselves. Yet the Boy Wonder still felt something wrong, something to convenient; some invisible force other than his own fingers were manipulating the pieces, assembling the puzzle for him as he observed without truly seeing. Rarely was a case this straightforward; only when more nefarious forces were operating from the shadows were matters this easy.

"Whatever it was, it blew every freakin' cell wide open, including Brother Blood's. He's brainwashed all the inmates, and they're creating chaos all over the place. I think we can handle it, but Minnie Mouse wants all the help we can get. So, will Titans West play cavalry?"

"You can count on us," Robin replied resolutely; flawed as he was, the Boy Wonder rarely betrayed his word.

"Great. Good thing Cyborg put those chips in our noggins to keep Blood from controlling us."

"Man, don't remind me," cried Beast Boy, shivering theatrically as if a solid block of ice had been dropped into his skintight leotard. "It still makes me feel like I've got an alien in my head or something."

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Darkness continued to permeate the Tower, even as the sun rushed in, flooding every nook and cranny, warming drooping faces, causing the eyes to tremor only momentarily as they tightened to defend against the sudden onslaught of brightness; mimicking the actions of the denizens of Jump, the Titans that had yet to rise simply buried their faces in their soft, caressing pillows, prepared to sleep until noon if permitted. Alas, permitted they were not; the gentle yellow glow of sunlight was quickly drowned by a rapidly flashing urgent red, and the relative silence (occasionally broken by a yawning hummingbird, or perhaps a chattering squirrel) was shoved aside by a blaring, deafening siren that invaded every sense; the Titans might attest that they could taste the horrid screech. Yet they could not disobey; within seconds of the alarm, the mechanical door labeled "STARFIRE" _swooshed_ open, and her flaming form darted out, emerald eyes ablaze with the passion of a true warrior. Cyborg's door was the next to open; he was delayed only because he had to first unplug the bulging, heavy wire that recharged his vital power cell; though he loathed to admit it, the blasted thing kept his single, glazed, silver organic eye open and functioning just as well as the glass one beside it.

Within the dreary confines of Raven's forbidden chamber, the pace was far less urgent, the sorceress' aching, creaking joints unable to function in tune with her mind. With tremendous effort gained from years of training her ravaged will, she forced herself into a recumbent position upon her bed, filling her lungs with the unnaturally chilled air that spilled out from the ventilation system; she expelled it with a wheezing hack. Sniffling, she extended her long, elegant arm, spreading all five thin, slender digits, and forced her hazy, burdened mind to concentrate, pushing through the cobwebs that frustrated her attempts. On any other day, her flowing navy blue cloak would have drifted directly into her waiting hand, and she would have flung it on with a great flourish as it billowed in the biting air conditioning. She would have then proceeded to bypass the door, using her mysterious magical abilities to instead teleport straight through it, and quickly hover to the main room to meet with the others.

On this unusual day, however, the flowing robe refused to leap to her; it hugged the simple wire coat-hanger within her vast closet, and its siblings copied it, refusing to budge, to even ripple a bit. Her deep, violet eyes narrowed, and she studied her still outstretched hand, as though gazing upon it for the first time in her life. Desperately, she strained it farther out, extending every finger tip to the point that they threatened to snap in half and clatter to the dust-covered carpet. "Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos," she chanted stoically; the incantation was hardly necessary, required only in the most complex of spells and rituals, but it seemed appropriate for this instance; they might be her solution. Still the tenacious robe clung lazily to the hanger, not even swaying as the A.C. hummed more noisily, spewing more cold wind into the forbidden chamber.

"This is bad…" she muttered as she shakily stumbled to the closet on the pale, silk smooth bare feet, dragging them one after the other through the rough yet cushioning carpet (as she discovered when she plummeted to her knees for the first time, clenching her teeth against a wave of crippling nausea). With a deep, painful sigh, she draped the blue cloth over herself, her ever at ease mind suddenly chaotic, overrun with speculation and the slightest sliver of fear, of soul rending concern. Mechanically, like the monotonously turning gears of a dust-coated grandfather clock, her arm reached out again, this time motioning toward the sliding stone door, one which she scarcely used herself. No ebon vortex melted into existence to permit her safe passage to the other side. Gravity snatched her hand and yanked it earthward, and it dangled limply at her side; she had not the physical strength to support it with her own muscles.

"At least we know why I'm sick…"

Minutes later, she had joined her friends in the main room.

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**_"Feh. Dolts. Like fish, they are. The bait dangles right before their eyes and they readily snatch it without hesitation. If they examined it more closely, they would see they are being deceived." _**

"Don't underestimate that Robin kid. He's smarter than he looks. He'll be suspicious."

**_"Yet his pitiful conscience will drive him to do what he feels is right, despite his reservations."_**

"Well, I guess. Still, he's bright, that one, nearly as brilliant as I!"

**_"Then I'll not concern myself, my friend." _**

****"What?"

**_"Don't worry about it. You must focus on your team. Are they assembled?"_**

****"All four, sir."

**_"Excellent. Then go meet with them. Await my signal, and act not a moment prior to it. Timing is instrumental in this plan." _**

"Sure thing. I still wish you'd let us fight all the Titans, though."

**_"Believe me, I would all too gladly give you the chance under more favorable circumstances." _**

The faint howl of wind rushing through the snaking tunnels was now the vile observer's only companion.

"_**I would let you fight them all with an entire army so that your own helplessness might be made clear to you. Even now, your sacrifice is necessary to my scheme, 'friend'. Such a pity."**_

His reptilian eyes glanced to an unseen recess of the cave, and he spread his nearly nonexistent lips, bearing the glistening daggers that were his scores of fangs.

"_**Like fish these humans are; so easy to deceive." **_

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**Author's Note: **Well, that's two chapters down. Sorry for the long wait; I've been very busy lately, and it won't get much better. I'll be leaving for New Jersey soon, so I wanted to post this before I leave all of you. I will have access to a computer, but it's a pretty bad one from what I recall, so I have no clue how long it will take to update. Nevertheless, I shall enjoy myself (and get my freakin' AP work done!).

A great big "thank you" to all three of my reviewers! Tyriel, it is always a pleasure. Sorry I made you wait so long. Luckily, I managed to avoid your two assassins by laying low in the Bahamas. As for your speculation… all shall be revealed soon. Redd, your reviews are always awesome, too. I try my best with the descriptions. TDG3RD, you have a pretty good eye. Just keep on reading.

Now for some explanations; Speedy's hat was inspired by his ridiculous costume from the sixties, which did feature a Robin Hood hat. "Minnie Mouse" refers to Bumble Bee's hair; I think Speedy should have pet names for all the T.E. members, so I threw it in (Minnie belongs to Disney). I spelled Raven's incantation the way I think it's spelled; there are so many variations, I don't think there is a right way. "Feh" is a Dragon Ball Z reference; in the Viz-translated manga, that is a common sound, often made by frustrated or disgusted villains, especially my favorite character, the mighty Piccolo! Hey, Piccolo's a demon… might I be dropping a subtle hint? Well, I kind of blew it now. It really doesn't matter; fans of the show probably won't be able to guess what I'm doing unless you've done some (very) light research.

**Next Time:** What will the Titans do about Raven's condition? What will they do to help the Titans East? Will Robin tread the path that the mysterious mastermind has predicted? Stay tuned!


	3. Ch 2: You're What?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Teen Titans. At least, the copyright things say I don't.

**Author's Note:** It's been a _long _time. Sorry I kept everybody waiting. I've been very preoccupied with school and other projects, and I've been very lazy when not working on those.

Unfortunately, I've been having terrible writer's block recently, especially when it comes to the Titans. I've had plenty of ideas, but I can't seem to word them properly. On top of that, I didn't like how this fic was fitting together, then I wasn't pleased with my sacrifices, then I couldn't figure out how to make this and that work, and it's all been a bloody mess. I'll try to work it all out, but don't expect another update for some time…

Ch. 2: You're What?

An enticing aroma permeated the kitchen area of Titans Tower, drifting gracefully into the nostrils of the resident half-robot, who sighed longingly; glancing at him, with his single organic eye rolled up, gazing dazedly beyond the laser-proof windows that stretched from ceiling to floor, out beyond the expansive city, which was now very much alive with the mingled sounds blaring horns and hard-soled dress shoes slapping against the steaming concrete, even further, beyond the cloudless azure sky, beyond the flaming golden sun, beyond the distant, invisible stars, beyond even the edges of this galaxy, one would think that he was lounging beneath a towering tree of Eden itself, snoozing as the rays of divine light gently tickled what skin remained on his face, surrounded by the sound of the light breeze drifting over the freshly trimmed, dew glistening grass, the chirps and chatter of the of the woodland creatures as they scampered about, unafraid of the massive form that now lounged in their midst, and the flow of a crystalline stream that tiptoed across smoothened pebbles that glittered in the sun.

"Dude," Beast Boy whined, a shrill prepubescent noise that shattered Cyborg's tranquility, as well as his abruptly clenched teeth, "I can't believe you eat that stuff! You're a murderer. That's all you are. A ruthless killer."

"Oh, I am not," Cyborg groaned, turning his attention back to the bacon and eggs that were gradually shriveling in the smoking pan. "They were long gone when I got them."

"They could have been baby chickens!" Beast Boy cried, a single tear trickling down his green-tinged cheek, grieving for the innocent, unborn infants who would never experience the joys of life. "You cut them down in their prime!"

Cyborg spun around abruptly, clomping toward the circular kitchen table upon his massive metal feet; had he not cut the tile out of durable zantathyum metal, a creation of his father's, the footfalls certainly would have left a lasting impression in his wake. "One: I did not cut them down in their prime. They weren't even born yet, genius! They didn't have any time to reach their prime. Two: the eggs they sell in grocery stores aren't even fertilized. They wouldn't have hatched." Cyborg relaxed his legs, letting them melt to heated lead as he collapsed into the chair (also specially crafted). He skimmed the sports section of the "Jump City Post" with his gleaming electronic eye. "You really should chill out, Salad Head."

Beast Boy's pointed elfin ears twitched, and his dark green eyes thinned, as if a sudden unbearable brightness had flooded the room. His slight muscles tensed beneath his jumpsuit and his single protruding fang dug into his thin upper lip.

The war had begun.

"Is that so, Toaster Brain?" he asked, a smug, crooked grin splitting his childish features.

"That the beast you got, Grass Stain?" Cy shot back almost immediately, his eyes cemented to the newspaper (by now, he was scanning the comic strips, randomly snorting to himself beneath his breath).

Beast Boy winced. Cyborg was no slouch; he spouted out insults more rapidly than the mayor spat out lies at the ravenous public (more competent police force my foot!), so one had to use caution when challenging him. "Not even close, Captain Aluminum! I will fight for the freedom of oppressed unborn chickens everywhere- nonviolently, of course."

"Man, we should call you Beatle Boy, 'cause you are a hippie to the max!" Cyborg exclaimed; by now, he had forsaken the business section ("borin' garbage" he called it), instead thumbing through the entertainment section, once more chuckling lightly, this time at both the critics' half-star reviews of the latest box office hits and the hilariously feeble advertisements for films that would soon settle into theaters for a week before packing their bags and flying briskly to grocery store shelves, where they would remain for the duration of their existence on Earth.

Perspiration began to dot the changeling's forehead, starting its trek from the untamed patch of hair that topped his scalp, snaking down his lime-green cheek, past his pursed, trembling lips, the single fang still jutting prominently, and finally striking the floor with a small "plop". Cyborg was inhumanly fast, and the jocular Beast Boy, for a moment at least, honestly speculated that Cyborg might be using that supercomputer brain of his to Google his comebacks between rounds. "Well, we should call you… uh… Charlton Heston! Yeah! You're, like, pro-death."

"Whatever, Tofu Breath," Cyborg sighed; his voice no longer carried a sliver emphasis, a scant hint of energy or excitement, as if he had grown weary of the one-sided battle, or perhaps because he thought he was already victorious, and it was no longer worth the miniscule effort.

"Dude, come on! Look, this is you."

A massive television screen suddenly materialized just behind Beast Boy, who produced from the pocket of his jumpsuit (presumably, for whether it has pockets is debatable) a giant remote control with a single red button. As he violently jammed it down, the forest scene was displayed, a generally faithful representation of Cyborg's daydream. Rabbits, squirrels, and various brightly colored birds, radiant fur and feathers glistening in the caressing rays of sunlight, tentatively began to emerge from the cool shade of the lightly swaying tree branches, their solid black eyes darting nervously about the dew coated landscape; it was as though a winter chill had suddenly settled in, freezing their trembling limbs to the ground.

Suddenly, a tremor shot through the ground, sending a jolt up each woodland creature's spine. Another followed, then another, and another. The steady "BOOM-BOOM, BOOM-BOOM" gradually grew more frequent, slowly became less faint, less distant. The furries desperately tried to scurry away, the birds gave shrill tweets of terror as they fluttered their wings in a frenzy, but to no avail. The ferocious Cyborg's cackle permeated the tranquility of the lush garden, twisting and deforming it into a dark nightmarish realm of doom, pain, and suffering beyond imagination. A demonic glow burned deep within both eyes as he unsheathed his fork…

"Man, you have one twisted imagination, small fry," Cyborg chuckled as he arose, casually tossing the crumpled sphere of newspaper into the nearby trashcan, gradually making his way toward the stove to remove his bacon and eggs, which were now shrunken and charred beyond any twinkling of recognition.

"Blender brain," Beast Boy blurted, collapsing into a chair opposite Robin as he sipped cool, nerve-soothing soy milk from his green plastic cup.

"Will you two shut up," Robin shot suddenly, obviously annoyed by his teammates' third grade bickering, the childish banter that he'd abandoned on the schoolyard long ago. He ground his unbrushed teeth as his gloved fingers rapidly drummed a beat upon the table, a tense, impatient, anxious beat that drilled into his mind. His eyes narrowed beneath his pretzel stick-thin mask. "Honestly, I'm beginning to suspect recruiting you two was a disaster waiting to happen."

"The only disaster here is your hair, Gel Head," Cyborg snorted as he crunched on a sliver of blackened pig's stomach.

Two seconds later, Robin's ebon spikes bowed, brushing against his shoulders as soy milk cascaded down, dragging his extra strength hair gel with it, gluing his uniform to his flesh.

Beast Boy sheepishly wiped the remaining trickles of the liquid from his lips, struggling to contain the hysterical fits of laughter that threatened to explode forth. "Sorry," he coughed.

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DOON!

Flaming arms arched across the scalding gravel, scorching the bare, blood red heavens.

DOON!

Cries of agony, cries that whispered tales of torture, of pain and suffering beyond comprehension, rang out, following the columns of fire as the leaped into the distance.

DOON!

"**_Rrrrrrrraaaaaaveeeeeen…_**"

DOON! DOON! DOON!

Cloven hooves buried themselves within the boiling earth, reveling as each nerve was impaled by the searing spears of demon fire.

**_"Raaaven. I am coming. The time draws near, girl. Your glorious destiny awaits you." _**

_"No…"_

"**_Look at it. Drink deeply of it. It is the world you created the moment you came to be._**"

"_No!"_

"**_You shall fulfill your destiny, my precious gem. The prophecy shall come to pass. So it is written. So it must be!" _**

****"_No!_"

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"Friend Raven?" Starfire called as she once more softly brushed the towering mechanical doors with her knuckles; though she tried to submerge her alien strength, lest she batter the door to atoms, the clangs of her dainty fist against the solid metal echoed in each corner of the dim, stretching hallway like two freight trains melding into one smoldering heap of twisted steel. "Friend Raven, it is I, Starfire, here to greet you on this wondrous morning!"

The grin that split Star's face in two gradually faded as she stood in silence, save for the persistent drone of the synthetic air that spewed forth from the Tower's ventilation, chilling the dim hall.

She rapped upon the door again, a bit louder this time; the explosions now sounded more like a post-apocalyptic battleground. With each unsuccessful attempt, she tried again, her pounding becoming progressively louder and more desperate: a hydrogen bomb, an atomic bomb, a supernova; every ear-splitting sound imaginable bounded through the hallway, bouncing off of every flat surface.

Finally, inevitably, the door gave way, issuing an eerie creak as it teetered for a moment, then collapsed onto the violet carpet with a muffled thud; the darkness in the room flooded out into the hallway. A starbolt ignited in the bronze alien's dainty hands, bathing the tiny abode in an emerald glow that chased away the gloom, scattering it to the farthest corners.

In the center of the chamber, the figure of her friend lay motionless, stirring only as her chest rose with her labored, rhythmic breathing, a light snore. She had been there since, lightheaded and utterly exhausted, she had collapsed on the way down to the briefing.

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"Sick?" Robin asked incredulously, cringing as though the word left a bitter taste in his mouth; Raven, in all the time she had been living in the Tower, had never been… "sick."

"She seemed most fatigued," Starfire said, her sparkling, emerald eyes also conveying her confusion and concern. "She insisted that she was fine, but I sensed otherwise. I insisted she go back to bed immediately… but she was already asleep again by the time I said it."

"Great," Beast Boy sighed, rolling his own emerald eyes as he swung his dangling legs, his sneakers striking the cabinets beneath the counter upon which he was perched. "If Raven was 'Little Miss Grumpy' before, imagine how she is now that she's sick." His pointed teeth clattered as he imagined her burning crimson eyes, the heat vision melting through his stomach…

"Hey, man, you mind not scratching up my countertop?" Cyborg snarled, and immediately Beast Boy's knees locked, then slowly clicked down like clock hands, one inch at a time; all the while, he grinned sheepishly, blushing.

"Alright, guys, no more banter," Robin commanded, capturing his team's attention with his general's tone. "Obviously, at least one of us has to stay and keep an eye on the city. Since Raven is sick and can't come, that obviously cuts our team down to three. Now, I know I'm going. The question is, which one of you is staying?"

There was a tense moment in which none of them spoke, eyes (bright green, dark green, and glazed gray/mechanical red) darting from one to another to another and back again. Finally, it was Beast Boy who cleared his voice, causing all eyes to snap to him in unison, and then, in the most mature, effective way he knew, went about choosing who would be staying home…

"Eenie… meenie… minie… moe!"- and the finger of his far-too-big-glove fell upon Cyborg.

"No way!" the robot cried, steam hissing from between his joints, the neon blue light emanating from his metallic frame darkening, taking on a deep crimson hue. "He fixed that! I want a rematch! Besides, I should go; I'm the one who saved all y'all from that psycho jerk copycat last time! How 'bout I play shove my foot up…"

"Cyborg!" Robin cried, rusting the tinman in mid-sentence, his calcium jaw still dangling open, though not a sound escaped, not even the slightest whisper, not even the faintest exhalation. "I know you feel Blood is your enemy and I respect that. However, with your medical expertise, I'd feel better if _you_ were the one to keep an eye on Raven, should, God forbid, a medical emergency should arise. Besides, I trust you to protect this city more than I trust anybody else here. You proved yourself more than capable when fighting Brother Blood."

Cyborg let out a sigh, his hydraulics whirring as his artificial spine curved, his shoulders drooping, arms dangling, his metal knuckles brushing the metal tiles. Then, with a grin, he muttered, "You just want to drive the T-Car, don't you?"

Robin smirked back, retorting, "You know it, Muffler Butt."

"Muffler Butt!" cried Beast Boy, tossing his lanky arms into the air as if to address the god of tofu himself. "Why can't I think of stuff like that?"

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**_"Yes, Titans, yes. Become intertwined in the web I weave, the web he weaves. Be the foolish heroes that you are. Leave yourselves totally exposed." _**

****"... this… ing o... lo? Hello?"

**_"I can hear you."_**

****"We're in position. Whenever you're ready, chief."

**_"Good. Just give it a bit more time. I'll contact you when I see fit." _**

****"All right. Over and out."

…

**_"I love it when a plan comes together. A truly masterful tactician knows when to sacrifice in order to draw away the defenses, knows how to deceive the enemy, then, when resistance is at a minimum… strike without mercy." _**

**Author's Note:** To those who review, thanks for sticking with me. I'll try to untangle this mess and set things straight. Thank you.

**Next Time: **Raven feels a bit better, but Cyborg won't let her lift a finger. Can he handle the criminals by himself? And will Raven be able to handle it when a haunting figure from her pat comes knocking at the Tower door? Who are these mysterious enemies, and what is their ultimate goal? Find out next time!


	4. Ch 3: Prophecies Long Dead

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Teen Titans.

**Author's Note**: I've had a bit of trouble with things not working out in this story lately. Then, I thought up a brilliant solution: As of right now, this occurs mere weeks following the Season Four Finale. A lot more stuff now makes sense. Thank God. Therefore, this also takes place some time after my other fic (it does tie in; you might want to read it).

**Ch. 3: Prophecies Long Dead**

The beam of sunlight that dissected the dark interior of the main entrance hall of Titans Tower grew gradually thinner as the massive metallic doors mechanically creaked shut. The thin sliver finally collapsed into itself as the two halves collided, sending an explosive thunderclap echoing into the far recesses of the chamber; the only light that twinkled dimly in that black abyss was the gentle turquoise glow of his electronic prosthetics. His glazed organic eye slid shut, the red light of its glass counterpart softening, as the tumultuous racket of the gears clicking and rotating and locking and whirring securely into place vibrated his plastic eardrums; the already tightly sealed double doors buckled several inches inward as the locks settled, an obnoxious crow caw of an alarm affirming it.

He stood idle for a moment, drowning in the silence; no Starfire belting out discordant Tamaranian folksongs, no Beast Boy rattling the grime-encrusted dish towers with the one hundred percent surround sound volume of the Game Station XL, no Robin barking orders and bursting sandbags in the gym… just the empty entrance hall.

"Well Cy… what are you going to do with yourself?" He gave a gentle sigh as he shuffled back toward the elevator, his silhouette liken unto a bell-ringer's. "Waffle time, I guess…"

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"**_Rrrrrraaaaavennnnn…_**"

The smoldering embers of what had once been earth quaked and shattered; fissures snaked across the scalding soil of the expansive plane, belching out columns of ebon smog that arched high into the crimson heavens, veiling the decaying corpse of the sun.

"**_Rrrrrraaaaveeeennnn…_**"

The cacophonous bellow vibrated her throbbing skull, assailed her fragile eardrums to the point of rupture. Yet she faltered not, continuing unimpeded in her flight, the short, ivory cloak swaying gracefully in her wake.

"It can't be you…"

"**_But it is, dear daughter. Your father has returned. Your father has come back for you, Raven!_**"

Her boots blurred as quickly as her trembling six-year-old knees would swing them; the hinges creaked and groaned, threatening to snap like an abused elastic band, worn by overextension.

"**_Did you truly think you could vanquish me? I, the Great Overlord? I, the Conqueror of Dimensions? I, Trigon the Terrible?_**"

Inevitably, she stumbled; her Achilles tendon strained futilely as her ankle jerked sharply to the right at a cruel ninety degree angle; every pore gaped open, every nerve ending shrieked as she slid across the flaming soil, the earth rippling like a boiling sea behind her. Her violet eyes bled salt as the heat lapped at her palms like a ravenous beast.

"**_I, Trigon, the God of Demon Folk?_**"

Like a divine monument erected before the splintering wooden doors of a gothic church, the Demon King ascended from the withering womb of the ashes of the earth below. Bone; all that remained of him was a mass of silver calcium that reflected the apocalyptic firestorm that consumed the realm surrounding him. The torrents of flame had not blackened them a bit; soot and ash evaporated as they pelted their smooth surface. The pair of antlers that streaked forth from his tangled white mane like lightning bolts tore long, jagged gashes in the swirling black mist above as he strode forward. His eternally borne fangs were clenched in a jeering sneer; the guttural sound that emanated from his bare throat could not be equated to a cackle, for it was far too vile and cruel to fit that definition. He glared down upon her, the barren sockets that had once held eyes now containing embers that burned with the crimson hatred of Tartarus itself.

"**_I, Trigon, the Consumer of Souls?_** **_The Unholiest of Unholies? The Murderer of Peace and Tranquility?_**"

Gradually, yet suddenly all the same, the ash of the molten earth that seared her flesh wove together, like grains of sand fusing into slick glass; the glow of the inferno that still stood in the corners of her clenched, leaking eyes subsided, and the intense heat plummeted to an equally extreme frigidity, cooler than snow or ice, yet burning as much as the flaming daggers it replaced.

Unconsciously, her violet eyes fluttered open, as though she were awaking from a gentle slumber upon her own mattress, beneath her own lilac-scented sheets.

"No…"

Stone, stone everywhere, surrounding her in a great cylinder, engulfing her, hugging her scalded knees. Great stone columns stood erect, proud, stoic; they were her flawless facsimiles, perfect doppelgangers; the acidic tears cascaded anew from Raven's trembling violet eyes as she returned her own tranquil gaze; it appeared as though it were taking pity upon her, or perhaps regarding her with scorn and contempt. The visage was her own, there was no mistaking it, but it was as it would be ten years later… or was it ten years earlier, or now; time lost all relevance in that moment of dread, that mounting anxiety, fading away like the pigment of the dying leaves of autumn.

"Not here…"

The monotonous droning began, a thousand wilted tongues uttering what sounded like a child's nursery rhyme, gently yet forcefully buzzing through the chilled, mystical air like a million beating bees' wings: "_The Gem was born of Evil's Fire…"_

"Not again…"

"_…The Gem shall be His Portal._"

"Stop…" …accompanied by shuddering sobs.

"_He comes to claim…_"

"Stop!" …growled, through teeth welded shut.

"_…He comes to sire…_"

"**_I said stop!_**" …followed by a delayed, futile gasp that came much too late.

"…_The End of All Things Mortal_."

As the last echoes of the final utterance ricocheted into the recesses of nonexistence, a great tremor disturbed the vast, tomblike structure. Cracks as thin as a spider's silk streaked like splashed water across the towering monuments, slowly widening like gaping jaws, until the figures finally crumbled, clattering to the ground as mere pebbles, indistinguishable from any other pebble. The concrete beneath her writhing form cracked in two like a church door suddenly swinging open, and as she plummeted into the bottomless fissure, a crimson claw slowly ascended from the abyss, cradling her as she continued to writhe and thrash, moaning in agony as the darkness consumed her, as she succumbed to the evil within her darkened soul: Her hair slithered from her scalp like a tangle of convulsing serpents, and swayed like whipping tendrils in the supernatural wind; her pale skin darkened, turning a deep crimson, as though dyed by a dozen summer suns, to match the hue of the palm that continued to ascend mechanically like a living elevator; her clenched teeth extended, sharpening into short blades through which her forked tongue flicked; and her four fiery eyes refused to shut throughout it all, the moist orbs that stood prepared to plummet at their corners turning to black mist and dissipating.

"**_Don't you see, daughter? You can never escape my embrace. I am your father, and that means that you are bound to me, body, blood, and soul. You cannot kill me, Raven; you are me!" _**

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The chilled, artificial air that seeped forth from the monotonously sighing vents bored into the barren gray walls filled her rapidly inflating lungs as she jolted upright, jarred awake as though by some frantic pandemonium or foreign agitation, though neither was possible; only she resided in the dimly lit chamber, accompanied by only sculptures, somber countenances staring blindly into the abyss with stone gazes. The frigid gasp erupted from her chest like the molten ash from a volatile volcano expelling its obstructions; the mass of amethyst sheets that constricted her cascaded to the carpet in a convoluted heap. Her frantic mind was rent; one half was still half-unconscious, lingering upon the caressing mattress, while the other half was in tumultuous shock, uncontrollable panic. Futilely her mantra drifted inches from her trembling pale lips, unable to assuage the pain, the gripping fear.

She stumbled once on her way to the ornate dresser that stood imperiously at the opposite end of the room, her knees striking the carpet with a muffled thud; its rough, perforated surface agitated the gray flesh on her kneecaps, leaving behind a bright red imprint. Without hesitation, she shoved herself up, a single, unbroken motion; her bare, blurring feet were already running past her arms as they supported the weight of her still-plummeting body.

In her journey (a mere breath away in distance but unending in time), she passed her towering bookshelf; the faded, splintering wood, already buckling beneath the tremendous weight of the ancient texts it supported, shattered in a sudden lash of warbling black tendrils that faded into nothingness like dissipating smog, and the tattered remains of the centuries-yellowed leafs drifted down like snowflakes ushered in by a mild flurry. She was blind and deaf to it, intent on reaching her dresser.

She met her own gaze in the ice-smooth, ornate looking glass mounted upon the wall; her normally piercing violet eyes had lost any semblance of solidity, transforming into wavering, quivering pools that bled saltwater, which singed her cheeks bright crimson as they slithered toward her trembling chin. Her voice was a barely audible rasp as she muttered, berating the frightened young woman in the mirror as she would a disobedient dog, an incorrigible child.

"He's dead," she scolded through teeth clenched to the point of shattering, her liquid eyes gradually transforming once more into eternal Arctic ice. "You cast him into a pit from which he can never emerge. He cannot come back torment you. Control your emotions. Control!"

A shuddering sigh swam out through her congested throat. She drifted limply from the mirror, her eyes hermetically sealed shut, her monotonous mantra once again drifting forth from between her half-closed lips: "Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos." She reiterated the sacred words thrice, emphasizing the words more carefully each time, before letting escape another sigh.

"I need tea."

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The sun appraised its reflection in the churning azure waters of the tumultuous Jump City Bay; the shimmering facsimile, though splintered gleaming into shards by the surging surf, cast a brightly burning pathway of gold across the wind tossed surface of the water, leading to the radiant, breeze swept sands of the distant shores, the land long untouched by technology, ignorant of the steel and concrete skyscrapers that thrust into the clouds short miles away; it knew only of the two jagged, rocky bluffs that jutted from the dehydrated fissures of the dull orange clay, and the enormous "T" that stood erect upon the lush green island in the distance.

The creature's golden embers burned nearly as intensely as the imperious afternoon sun, and with as much scorn and contempt toward the blind-deaf people scrambling like dying insects far below, the towering smokestacks belching pestilence into the one pure air, the pipes jutting from cliffsides belching toxins that corrupted the very bay that the city prided. It scowled; whether or not its plans succeeded, the humans were slowly decaying, little more than a thick glass jar of ants left beneath the sun's eradicating stare.

The same ominous, melancholy gale that turned the grains of sand upon the hillside into a maelstrom of miniscule pelting projectiles struggled to rend free the crimson cloak that enshrouded the creature, succeeding only in violently lashing it about, producing an irritating, repetitive noise something like the rapid flutter of a hummingbird's wings amplified tenfold. Despite the minor annoyance, its nonexistent lips curled up, lengthening the glittering daggers that lined its maw. Its prey was within pouncing range. Soon…

"**_Are you prepared?_**" it asked in something between a gentle purr and a rasping hiss, never shifting its stony luminescent gaze.

"_Yeah, yeah_," crackled the faint reply, riding upon the arches of the special psychic frequency. "_Just give the order and we'll go_!"

"**_Consider the order given!_**" it snarled with such ferocity, such resounding resonance, that the very wind tossed grains of sand clatters to the ground, trembling and huddling together in terror of the behemoth.

"_Er… right_," the human meekly stammered as the contact was quickly severed, swiftly as a snapping chord.

"**_I'll be glad to be rid of you, at last,_**" the beast spat as its fangs turned once more into a jagged, ivory crescent moon. "**_All is falling into place, my master. You shall see the sky once again. And then… you shall own it._**" It was scarcely perceivable, perhaps so microscopic and fleeting that not even a gnat would mark it, but had a living soul been perched upon that outcropping with the creature, it might have noticed the smile receding ever so slightly with the last remark.

**Author's Note**: Sorry I haven't updated in some time. Life in general has been quite hectic as of late, and I've had little time to write much of anything that wasn't school related. I've been hacking away at this, revising and such, but I haven't accomplished a whole lot. I already have a sequel fic planned, so I've also been trying to plan that out. I had intended a much bigger update, but I decided it was overdue, so I decided to just upload this. I think I accomplished a lot with it.


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